


Arabesque

by snick_s



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Swearing, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-09-19 11:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17000532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snick_s/pseuds/snick_s
Summary: Lance had a secret.It wasn't super dark or deep or anything, but it was something for him, and him alone. Something he held close to his heart and meant a lot to him.... It was also really embarrassing.Stupid Keith, coming onto the training deck when everyone was supposed to be asleep.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've wanted to write this for t i m e
> 
> i am VERY iffy about this prologue, i just don't like it lol but it should get better i promise

Lance had always been hyper. It was the way he was wired, he guessed.

Ever since he was little, he couldn’t sit still. Before he could even speak, he was constantly crawling around, playing with things, zoning out and abandoning what he was doing. But that was normal kids’ stuff. Nothing out of the ordinary. At least, that’s how everyone saw it. Even so, Lance was a tiring kid. He was always so full of energy, so hyper and loud and… _Lance_ that his parents decided that he was in desperate need of a hobby, of something to burn out all that energy that seemed to be in constant supply.

At first, it was the drums. Big mistake. The two-year old’s playing was a messy, loud cacophony of crashes and huge banging noises that made the McClains’ ears ring, until he inevitably got bored of it and decided to start drawing. On the walls. In permanent ink. Sofia McClain stared at the drawings in mute horror, crossing out _Drums_ on her list and inspecting Plan B: Swimming.

And it actually worked for a while. Lance was a star swimmer, fastest out of his class and always exhausted at the end of every session. He’d be asleep the moment the car started moving, light snores dancing through the air as his head smushed against the window pane. Things were going well. Until, of course, he got bored again.

“But why, sweetheart? I thought you loved swimming!” Sofia was silently panicking. As awful as it sounded, Saturday Swimming Lessons were her only breather, the only break in the week she got from Lance and his boisterous hyperactivity. She loved him with all of her heart, but he really was a bit too much for her sometimes.

“Because it’s _booooooriiiiiiiiing_ ,” Lance whined, flopping onto his back and forcing off his armbands in frustration.

A brief hesitation flickered across her face before she sighed, barely audible, “Are you sure?”

“Mhm,” he replied, before curling up onto his side languidly and drifting off to sleep. That was another thing about Lance. No matter how hyper he was during the day, the moment he was tired, he was out. Just like that.

Sofia stroked his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead before covering him with his blanket. She cast a worried glance toward him at the doorway, eyebrows knit together, and turned off the lights before she left. _A plan,_ she thought, _I need a plan._

As it turned out, she didn’t need a plan after all. Lance had one of his own.

“Dancing?” Sofia stared at her son.

He nodded his head enthusiastically, hair flopping back and forth as he jumped around, “Yeah! I wanna be like those break-dancers!”

Except it came out more like ‘bweak-dancews’. He was two though, ‘r’s were still being sorted out.

She hummed, pulling the website for the nearest studio up on her laptop and beginning to wonder about whether or not she was spoiling her son.

 

***

 

There were no more ‘Tiny Tots Breakdancing!’ openings left. Sofia ran over every option in her mind, thinking about how far away any other studios were and how heartbroken Lance was going to be after he’d been asking for this over and over again for four weeks now. Guilt bubbled under her skin when she realized it was her fault. Lance had always had a habit of picking things up and dropping them again, but these lessons were expensive. She wanted to know that he really wanted it. And now, when she’d finally relented, there were none left. What was she going to…? A notion suddenly appeared in her mind. Insane, but oddly persuasive.

“You do Baby Ballet on Saturdays, right?” the sentence came out rushed and hasty when her eyes flicked over to Lance, who was kicking his legs and bouncing between two seats. Imagining him looking crestfallen at the news that he wouldn’t be able to dance at all was killing her from the inside out.

The receptionist behind the maple desk nodded, clicking and clacking around on her computer before finding what she was looking for.

“Yeah, there are a few spaces available for that. First session is a sort of taster thing, so it’s free. It starts in ten minutes, so you can leave him here with us,” she smiled.

“Oh okay,” Sofia bit her lip, hands tightening around her bag strap as she cast another glance toward Lance, who’d come here for breakdancing not ballet, who was excited to jump around not do stretches. She took a deep breath. It was just a taster session.

 

***

 

Lance hated it.

Or at least, at first he had. Apparently, according to the teacher, he’d come in kicking and screaming and left wanting to go again next week. Sofia wasn’t exactly sure what possibly could have happened in the space of an hour to cause that, but she was overjoyed that he was enjoying it for now. For some reason.

So Lance did ballet lessons. They went out to get him tiny baby ballet shoes, and black leggings and a white shirt. He was constantly ‘practicing’ at home, hyper-focused on his little spins and turns, and attempting to get into the splits like his teacher could. Sofia was forever waiting for the day when he’d announce he’d given up and wanted to start dirt-biking or something instead, but it never came.

 

***

 

{ f o u r  y e a r s  l a t e r }

 

Lance was holding onto his mother’s hand tightly, skipping across the pavement in his leggings and trainers with his sports bag swinging from his shoulder. He spoke suddenly as they approached the car, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“Hey Mama?” the six-year-old started, four years after his first lesson. He’d officially mastered the splits months ago.

Sofia hummed in response, “Si, Lance?”

“I watched this TV show about astronauts yesterday,” he hesitated, feet slowing down ever so slightly. Nervousness filtered into his blood, coursed through him and made him worry. What if she said no?

“Do you… Do you think I could be one, one day…?”

She scooped him into her arms, making him laugh and squirm when she peppered his face with kisses.

“Lance, _cariño_ , no matter what, I will _always_ believe in you. You can be anything you want to be.”

He grinned wide, hugging her tightly with happiness exploding in him like fireworks.

 

“Gracias, Mama.”


	2. Suaviens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the Suaviens are sweet and Pidge is curiousss
> 
> also thank you for all the sweet comments! <3 (iffy on this yet again but feeling better than last time so)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas pun (the second half is at the end)
> 
> i was at a hotel and i went into the lobby, and i saw these two chess masters gloating about their past wins

Lance couldn’t sleep.

He could remember a time when sleep came easily to him, when he didn’t toss and turn hours after everyone was already snoozing and dreaming, staring at his ceiling helplessly as pent up energy crackled on the surface of his skin. The amount of energy that coiled around him was frustrating beyond belief, filling him up until he couldn’t help it any more and would roll out of his bed to pull on his pointe shoes.

 _No,_ he thought, _Not tonight. We’ve got a mission tomorrow._

The training deck was calling for him, cracking at his stubborn self-control, its image enough to almost coax him into giving in. But he didn’t. He rolled onto his side with inevitable homesickness catching up with him now that he had nothing to do. He saw his mother smiling, Veronica laughing and pranking him, his dad filming his competitions. He saw his countless cousins running around at family reunions and could almost smell his mother’s _Ropa Vieja_ wafting in from the kitchen. His eyes burned, and throat felt lodged with a heavy lump, but he forced it all back and rolled back onto his stomach, tucking his hands under his cheek. No more crying. He’d already done enough of that in the quiet between the violence and behind the safety of closed doors.

No more crying.

 

***

 

“off- Lance? Did you catch that?” Shiro’s voice snapped him back into the present. His dark eyes were drilling into him with scrutiny, and Lance swallowed. He’d zoned out again.

“Uh… yes…?” he didn’t sound convincing, even to his own ears, and shrank into himself in shame.

“Maybe?”

He saw Pidge rolling her eyes, felt heat rise to his cheeks in embarrassment.

Shiro gave him a strange look, not exactly annoyed but a weird blend of confusion and concern, “This is the last planet in this system that’s not in the coalition. They’re a very timid species, and incredibly kind. So, please, don’t make them uncomfortable by flirting with them, because they’re too nice to tell you to back off.”

Lance made an indignant noise in the back of his throat, but everyone’s unimpressed stares shut him up. He shifted his weight on his feet in discomfort, face burning even hotter and fingers tangling together.

“You got it,” he muttered in a rough voice before staring blankly at the floor. He could feel Hunk’s worried gaze on him and felt like shrinking even smaller.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid-_

“Okay, that’s all. We should be there in two vargas, so find something to do until then,” Shiro finished, sending everyone on their way.

Lance released a shaky exhale as he turned to leave, starting for his room and continuing to walk when Hunk fell into step beside him. His voice was low and warm when he talked. His signature comforting voice.

“Hey, man, don’t worry about it. Everyone’s just stressed, and you ran out of medication,” his voice was brimming with worry, with a wholehearted desire to make his friend feel better about the fact that him spacing out was common these days, and that his mind running at a hundred miles an hour, accompanied by reckless impulsiveness was nothing to feel so down about. But to Lance, it really, really was.

Because when he had the medication, he could think before he acted. Before he ran out, he was more like Lance and less like…

Less like Keith.

Lance inhaled sharply, feeling something inside him shift at that realization. Whatever emotion he was feeling would have to wait until later, though, because Hunk was still staring at him with that concerned look that made his stomach twist painfully. He forced himself to nod and smile, even though he knew that Hunk could see right through him.

“It’s okay, Hunk. I’m fine, really,” he insisted.

_You liar. No wonder everyone hates you, you never have the decency to tell them the truth._

Another swallow, the smile growing tighter, “Don’t worry about me, Hunk.”

The dark-skinned boy opened his mouth to say something, but Lance whispered in a voice so weak, so obviously broken that, for once, he couldn’t find the words to comfort him no matter how he tried.

“ _Please._ ”

They’d reached Lance’s room, and the boy looked at him with eyes rimmed by dark circles and plagued with bags. His skin was paler, and he just looked so… tired, so diseased with exhaustion that it almost seemed like a physical burden that he carried on his back. Hunk stared helplessly as his best friend pressed his hand onto the sensor by his door, disappearing through it before it slid shut behind him.

 

***

 

Pidge’s eyes were wide where she leaned on the wall just around the corner from Lance’s room. Lance ran out of medication? For what? Part of her was telling her not to stick her nose in, that it was none of her business, but the other part was burning to know. And that part was a lot bigger than the other one. Her mind felt like it was running around in circles, and she slowly ran a hand through her hair to steady herself, coming to a conclusion. There was a reason why Lance had been so odd recently. All the fidgeting and zoning out and stupid decisions had a cause. For a moment, her father’s words from years ago rang in her head, the words he’d say whenever he caught her snooping around in his lab.

_Curiosity killed the cat._

Her gaze hardened.

_But satisfaction brought it back._

 

***

 

Lance’s mind was in a completely different place when they were on the planet, which he learned was called Suavis.

The people there were completely different from anything he’d ever seen before. All the adults were around seven foot, with skin that was onyx black and covered in reflective flecks. Six fingers instead of five, and eyes with no irises or pupils. They didn’t seem to have noses, and there was no Voldemort type situation with slits either. All of them had those elf-like ears that the Alteans sported, and glowing crystals on their scalp instead of hair, all of varying sizes. They were dressed in skirts or knee-high shorts, and sleeveless shirts in some sort of silvery satin material that was flowy and light. Lance noted the differences between them, too. Some Suaviens had gold flecks, others had purple, some green and the rest had any other colour you could possibly think of. The flecks matched the colour of their… eyeball orb thingies. He also realized that some were adorned with antennae, and others had tails or even wings. The wings resembled those of dragonflies and were pressed close to their bodies. Just as Lance was taking a closer look at the intricate patterns inside of a pair, which swirled and spiralled and twisted around each other, Allura called his name.

He jumped slightly, turning to see her staring at him in obvious worry. The concern drew her eyebrows together, filled her eyes and tugged her lips down into a frown. Lance didn’t like that look.

“Is everything alright, Lance? You’ve been acting very strange recently.”

It was then that he realized that the group, led by Shiro and a Suavien, had moved on without him, and were wading through the long blades of navy-blue grass that broke their way out of the surface of the planet. Allura must have come back for him. The thought filled him with warmth that combatted the coldness that filled his stomach at being left behind. At being useless enough to not realize everyone had stopped talking and started walking.

“I, uh,” for a moment, he considered telling her everything. The words were on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out and fill the distance between them, peeling away the thick layer that hid the truth. But then he swallowed the words down, instead saying “Yeah, just tired I guess.”

It seemed like she bought it too, as the tension in her shoulders melted away and a smile graced her features, “Come on, then, we don’t want to leave the others waiting.”

Lance gave her a shaky smile and sighed quietly in relief when it worked while she turned before walking with him.

They hurried to catch up with the rest of the team, who were flanked by Suaviens that were eyeing them curiously and keeping a bit of distance between them. All of them looked nervous and tense, as if they wanted to speak but were held back by their own shyness. Lance was oblivious to his focus wandering once again, taking in the sky above them. He remembered Pidge mentioning it always looked like twilight here. Never blue, never black, just dusty pale pink streaked with yellows and purples and sprinkled with wispy clouds. It was like looking at a little piece of home, and, surprisingly, it made Lance smile.

Lance jogged to catch up with Hunk, who instantly whispered to him.

“Their leader is the only one who talks,” discomfort was pulling at his soft features, “and apparently we’re going underground.”

He turned his head to glance at the Suaviens, who still eyed them warily with what almost looked like fear. They crouched low as if to make themselves smaller, even though they were literally seven feet and would tower over them if they stood straight. Lance noticed that the lights in the crystals on their heads were pulsing at an almost alarming speed.

“I think… I think they’re scared of us,” Lance mumbled quietly, certain they’d run if he spoke any louder.

Hunk nodded quickly, eyebrows furrowed and a worried bottom lip between his teeth. He spoke in an equal hush, “I _know_ right?” a brief pause, “We should show them that there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Lance raised an eyebrow, “How?”

He only shrugged in response, speaking quietly, “I don’t know, maybe we can-”

Hunk never got to finish his suggestion, because he was abruptly interrupted.

 

By Lance falling flat on his face.

 

He managed to trip on his own foot, sending him crashing into the ground in a messy tangle of arms and legs. Most dancers were pretty graceful most of the time. But Lance? If he wasn’t dancing, he was basically a walking beanpole. A low groan escaped his lips, and he was about to wrench himself back onto his traitorous feet when he suddenly felt two strong pairs of arms gently lifting him up. Apparently, his sudden tumble had alarmed the Suaviens, who’d forgotten their apprehension in a panic and ran forward to help him. He smiled at them shakily, thanking them in embarrassment while Pidge cackled, and Hunk tried his very best to bite back a smile. Keith tossed a disapproving glance their way, not that Lance noticed since he was being fussed over by the not-scared-anymore Suaviens.

He secretly revelled in the attention, insisting he was fine and perfectly capable of taking care of himself (with a cheeky wink) and that that fall was honestly just a blip because who was more graceful than him?

“We are here,” the leader announced in a voice that was somehow both soft and loud, one that almost sounded like a breeze.

Silence fell. Despite the silence, though, the Suaviens didn’t shy away. Some of them were still watching Lance in concern, actually.

They were stood at the mouth of a tunnel, in which there was a darkness so thick and deep Lance could hardly believe it wasn’t a physical presence. The mouth was an arch, framed by crystals that were dark purple and pulsed with light that was like a life force. They seemed alive, radiating warmth and a calmness that washed over him and somehow cut off his relentless fidgeting. Lance’s sapphire eyes fixated on them in wonder, blinking when Hunk gave him a subtle nudge and he clamped his mouth shut.

“Let us enter,” the leader announced, in that same wispy voice.

 

And enter they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess you could say they were chess-nuts boasting by an open foyer
> 
> tee-hee
> 
> i haven't watched s8 but I've heard baddd things lol
> 
> (saturday chapters from now on xx)


	3. Crystals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xerin has something to show Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yet another dodgy chapter lmaooo

For a slice of a moment, Lance felt like he was drowning in darkness.

 

It wrapped itself around him, swallowed him up and almost felt suffocating. He couldn’t tell whether his eyes were open or closed, and stumbled slightly, at a loss as to where anyone was or what was in front of him.

“Hunk?” he whispered into the darkness. There was the sound of sporadic footsteps pausing.

“Yeah?” Lance turned his head toward where his voice had come from, squinting in that direction.

“I can’t s-”

Then it happened.

The crystals that protruded from cracks in the stone walls snapped into life suddenly with a fierce light. It consumed everything, ripping through the darkness with a harshness that made Lance’s eyes ache. He hissed and screwed them shut with dizzying phosphenes dancing behind his eyelids and waited for the dull ache to pass. After a moment, he reluctantly opened them to find Hunk stood in front of him and a Suavien either side of him. Lance may have been tall, but they were a full head and shoulders taller, and he yelped in surprise before clearing his throat and resuming his walking as if nothing had happened. Because he was cool. Obviously.

Now that he could see properly, what he had suspected was confirmed. The tunnel sloped downwards, spiralling its gradual way lower and lower, deep into the rock near the core of the planet. Suavis wasn’t like Earth. Its core was a massive, dense crystal that acted as the planet’s gravity source. The crystal was packed inside of thick rock, and a few miles of soil sat on top of the hard layer. It kinda reminded Lance of the Balmera. According to Coran, the tunnel they were going into was mostly forged naturally and had been there for thousands of years. In the tunnel, Lance was at ease. He didn’t fidget, didn’t say dumb things without thinking, could focus perfectly fine. He had a feeling it had something to do with those crystals.

The whole group jolted to an abrupt halt when the leader, whose name was Xerin, shot a six-fingered hand into the air. The gesture was sharp and authoritative, a silent, unnegotiable order to stop. The Suaviens were so tall that Lance had no clue what was happening. From his ridiculous hopping, he managed to see the faint outlines of a particularly harsh glow, and his ears were filled with the jarring sound of stone grinding against stone, and then everyone was going through a rectangular space where there used to be a wall. They filed through it one after the other, and Lance’s eyes widened at the way it opened up to a gargantuan hall with a ceiling so high he had to crane his neck to see it. Unsurprisingly, the light came from those crystals that somehow managed to keep him calm. It truly was massive, all spiralling pillars, intricate archways, and smooth stone walls. The overwhelming space made him feel tiny, not like a defender of the universe.

Everyone sat down around a long table that stood proudly in the centre of the hall. It was ebony coloured, as solid as rock but as smooth as glass and the chairs were the same, making Lance shift in discomfort. He got over it, though, unlike the feeling of being watched by the Suaviens, who’d positioned themselves in a circle around the table and gazed at them with unwavering attention. Most of the time, he, Hunk and Pidge simply sat and observed, making occasional comments while Allura, Shiro, Keith, and Coran did all the actual talking. But something about those crystals (and Lance just knew it had to be them) meant his mind was sharp and focused, engrossed in the task at hand. Shiro cleared his throat, and the conversation began.

 

***

 

The conversation had been going for two hours now, but Xerin still seemed wary of joining the Coalition. Lance’s butt had fallen asleep. Then, finally, the conversation managed to find its way to the thing they’d been dancing around, tiptoeing over and avoiding.

“I don’t want to bring war to this planet, and you have nothing to gain from us joining your Coalition. Our crystals are not sources of energy, we are not warriors, we have no weapons. Why should we join if all we can do is lose?” they asked, and silence fell. Because they were right, weren’t they? Surely, the Suaviens had nothing to offer? If it were anywhere else, Lance wouldn’t even have been paying attention. But he was, and what he was hearing made his stomach clench and heart sting. He took a deep breath before filling the silence.

“I get how you feel,” he started, and every head turned toward him, “And maybe you guys aren’t warriors or whatever, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have anything to give. War is violent and messy and complicated, but you don’t have to fight because you guys… you’re _engineers_. You built this entire place with barely any tools, and you’re…”

Lance didn’t think the next two words he was going to say applied to him, that those words ever had or ever would. But the Suaviens needed to hear it because for them it was true.

“You’re amazing. With your engineering, you could build defence systems and shields, not weaponry. You wouldn’t have to contribute to the violence, you’d save people from it without hurting anyone. We can do this together.”

The silence that followed his speech was deafening. It rang. Keith was staring at him with something unreadable in his eyes, a dark, burning stare that he found himself avoiding. Allura almost looked proud and Pidge’s mouth had fallen open in poorly concealed shock. He swallowed thickly, feeling like shrinking but meeting Xerin’s intense, iris-less gaze with a firm look.

“Alright,” they said eventually, after a long pause filled with tension, “We will join. On a condition.”

The relief slammed into Lance like a flood, barrelled into him and consumed him. He almost forgot about the condition in his joy.

“What condition?” Shiro asked.

“The Paladin in the blue armour must accompany me somewhere.”

Lance’s mind ground to an uncomprehending stop for a moment. Xerin, the leader of the amazing engineers and intensely kind Suaviens wanted to talk to _him_? The boy from Cuba who didn’t even know what he had to offer to his teammates, let alone the universe?

“O-oh,” his previously eloquent words tripped over each other, “Uh, okay.”

Xerin rose from the table before making a series of strange hand gestures with their hands. Lance didn’t have a clue what was going on, but the Suaviens seemed to understand it, as one of them strode to an area of the wall and pressed their hand against it. A rectangular outline of light appeared out of nowhere before the door evaporated. Just like that.

“Your chambers have been prepared for you, Yorwin and Zenkan will show you to your quarters,” Xerin announced. Their voice seemed to wash over him like a gentle tide, keeping him at ease and relaxed, “Come, young Paladin, for we have much to discuss.”

Lance tried not to think too much about the ominousness of that statement as they reopened the space in the wall they’d initially gone through while the others streamed through the opposite wall and into their chambers.

“I sensed,” Xerin began after they’d led him through a baffling labyrinth of disintegrating openings and twists and turns, “from the very first moment I saw you, that your mind is not at rest. It is… frantic. Fast.”

Lance wondered where they were going, wondered what could possibly be going on that meant they’d gone this far into the rock.

“I will admit,” he still couldn’t get over that voice. Its sound was an enigma, a paradox. How could something be quiet and loud all at once? “The chances of this working are very low.”

The chances of what working?

“Many years ago, there was an Altean like you. Everyone could see she had a big heart, a yearning to help others, and she too was easily distracted and full of this… this excess energy and irrationality that got her in trouble. So, she came here and took a crystal. It fused itself to her and would keep her at ease when she wanted it to.”

So he’d been right. It _did_ have something to do with the crystals. Then their tone changed slightly, and their features darkened by a marginal amount, almost enough not to be noticed but still there.

“Be warned: after a period of time, you will find that you will be unable to lie. Every time you try to speak fictitiously, the truth will spill from your lips, and a while after that, you will fall into a deep sleep for anywhere between two days and two years. When using the crystal, you will also obtain Suavien markings, though only for as long as you use it. There’s no way for me to tell how many or where they will be, but you agree to this at your own risk and with the knowledge that, in all likelihood, it will not work.”

He blinked, staring at the flecks on their skin that seemed to glow in the light of the room they were in. They were like speckles of paint or freckles that were a spattering all over their skin in a way that almost created a galaxy on the pure black surface of their body. Those freckles would appear on him…?  Except they probably wouldn’t, as Xerin seemed to love to keep reminding him. He felt the small flame of hope in his chest waver, just a little. His mind wrestled with itself for a moment as he pondered on the crippling disappointment he’d feel when it didn’t work, which he knew would happen. The question of what to do spun in his mind, somersaulted around until he finally made his decision. His fists clenched, and his nostrils flared. He had to at least try.

 

“I’ll do it.”

 

***

 

Xerin had opened a final doorway, which revealed a large alcove carved into the stone. Inside it was 12 stone columns that traveled just past his elbow. They were evenly spaced, coated in a fine layer of dust that hinted at the room’s neglect and made Lance’s nose burn with a sneeze that never came. He grimaced at the feeling it lingered. He wasn’t focusing on the columns, but on the crystals on top of them. They weren’t like all the others he’d seen, which were all sharp edges and jagged in shape. No, these were round and smooth like pebbles, and their patterns were moving, swirling right in front of his eyes. He couldn’t quite get over how beautiful they were, how much he wanted this to work.

“You should feel yourself getting drawn to one of them,” Xerin said carefully when they noticed that Lance most certainly was _not_ doing that.

That set off alarm bells. He desperately searched in himself for the feeling he’d get when he was near Red or Blue, for _anything_ , but he just felt normal, if a bit enamored by the beauty of the crystals. _Oh no._ The panic must have shown in his eyes, too, because the leader sighed, a sound that reminded him so much of rushing wind or a babbling brook, and suggested they leave. He ducked his head, nodded, and turned toward the open space that led to the labyrinth that would take them back to the massive hall that seemed miles and miles away. But then, something filled him. It was a semblance of something, a feeling that sparked in his stomach and grew as a tight ball that was trying to lead him away from where he was trying to go. He paused, finding his head turning toward the wall behind the columns on its own, unaware of his feet leading him to it while Xerin watched apprehensively. He blinked when he realized he was face to face with the wall and sensed that feeling telling him to touch it. The instinct to touch it was so strong that Lance inhaled sharply, pressing his palm against the cool, smooth stone and staring in disbelief as a square outline of light appeared before the stone melted away to reveal a small cube carved into the wall. There was another crystal sat in the recession. Lance couldn’t tear his eyes away from it.

It was violet coloured, shiny and smooth and triangular in shape. It wasn’t a pyramid, more like a pendant that was thin and full of that swirling pattern. There was that feeling again. _Touch it._

The pull was so strong that Lance couldn’t have resisted even if he wanted to. And the moment he touched it, a blinding light invaded every one of his senses, overloaded him with nothing but white that made his eyes burn and hand fly to his face. For the second time that day, he waited for the ache to pass before lowering his hand to see that it was gone. His mind went blank, filled only with confusion. Gone. It was gone. Lance’s breath escaped him. _It was gone!_

He jumped back, rubbed his eyes as if that would make it come back. He checked every column, the floor, the corners, in a panic.

“Xerin – it’s, i-it’s,” he froze when he caught the expression on their face. It was pure, unfiltered shock. Their smooth eyes were wide, and their jaw unhinged.

“We should leave. Now,” they ordered, in a voice that would have sounded firm if it wasn’t for the slightest tremor tinging the end of it.

“But-”

“Lance,” the sound of them saying his name for the first time stopped him completely, “We are leaving. You Paladins are going to be seeing Suaviens and helping to design potential defences tomorrow. You need rest.”

Lance stole a glance toward the empty cube, watching helplessly as the stone reformed and cut off his view of the space altogether. The new feeling in his stomach remained though, moving upwards into his chest and curling there, spreading warmth through his body.

“Okay,” he murmured, staring at the wall where the cube of space had been before finally wrenching his eyes away.

 

“Okay.”


	4. Defence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, everyone seemed to forget that you had to be pretty smart to get into a school as prestigious as the Galaxy Garrison.

By the time Xerin led Lance back to his chamber, he was exhausted.

His eyelids drooped, weighed down by tiredness that crawled through his veins like sludge as he pulled the heavy, clunky armour off of him. He unceremoniously dumped it by his bed where it lay in a heap. After tugging off the black skin-tight under-suit, he slipped on the silky pyjamas that had been kindly folded and placed at the end of his bed as a languid yawn escaped him. The PJs were unbelievably soft, hugging his skin in a way that he relished. The bed was pretty big too, with four posters that were black and shimmering in the light cast by the dimly glowing blue and red crystals that adorned the stone walls. Its silky satin pillows called to him, and he gladly obliged, flopping right onto it and exhaling in tired satisfaction as it surrounded him with its softness and warmth. The moment he touched the bed, the crystals went out.

And so did he. Out like a light.

 

***

 

The sudden feeling of pain exploding in his cheek yanked Lance violently out of the deepest sleep he’d had in a long while.

He yelped, shooting up into a sitting position as the sharp pain dulled into an ache that throbbed throughout his entire face, and he scowled up at Hunk and Pidge. They were stood by his bed, regarding him with poignant disapproval, and Pidge was shaking her hand a bit. It had gone bright red.

Lance glared at them, “Why are you slapping me awake at the butt crack of dawn!? And _what_ are you _wearing_!?”

Pidge rolled her eyes, “You already know there’s no dawn here. Now get up and change, the Suaviens made breakfast and it starts in like two minutes.”

Before Lance could respond, a heavy pile of clothes smacked right into his face, sending him flying backward onto his back. He groaned lowly with his voice coming out muffled.

“You little-”

“Okay bye Lance!” Pidge’s overly cheery voice called, causing Hunk to mumble out an embarrassed apology on her behalf as they left.

Then the sound of stone grinding against stone filled the air before everything went quiet.

With a huff, Lance pulled the clothes Pidge threw at him off his head before looking down to inspect them. They were black – which was so not his colour – and weren’t silky, unlike all the other clothes he’d seen. These were almost like cotton intricately weaved with shiny purple flecks, and – was that a _cape_!? His eyes widened in horror at the waist length garment that sat on his lap. Lance McClain was not a musketeer. Lance McClain did not wear _capes._

 _Do it for the Suaviens,_ he thought to himself with a deep, shuddering inhale. He could totally rock a cape, couldn’t he?

The knowledge that breakfast was starting soon spurred him to action, making him pull off his shirt and reach for the black one when everything ground to a screeching halt. His eyes were wide when they fixated on the inside of his upper arm as the events of the evening before came barrelling back into him with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs. He couldn’t look away from his arm, where a flat, purple crystal had embedded itself into his skin. _It was flush with his skin._

“What the-” he breathed. It was pulsing bright and fast, and he wondered how he ever managed to be ignorant to its presence in his body.

He apprehensively ran his hand over it, feeling how his soft skin was replaced with a cold, hard, smooth crystal. It was like having a tattoo. A… a hard, glowing, crystal, triangular tattoo. At least it was small?

“Uh, Lance?”

Alarm electrocuted his senses when he shot his eyes up to Shiro and instantly brought his arm down to conceal the crystal. He had the full get up too, cape and all.

“Is everything okay? Breakfast started a while ago,” His dark eyes bored into Lance’s suspiciously and he gulped. It didn’t seem like he’d seen anything.

“Uh, yeah,” he winced at the voice crack, “Yes. Everything’s f-fine.”

Shiro stared at him for a moment, “Um… Okay? Put a shirt on.”

He stared down at his bare chest and stomach and flushed, hastily grabbing the shirt to cover himself.

“Will do,” he squeaked. He’d never wished for the floor to open up and swallow him whole harder in his entire life.

“Right. Well – if you ever want to talk about anything that’s going on, or…”

“I’m okay, Shiro.”

“Okay. Well, get to breakfast,” he said before finally turning and leaving.

Lance released a heavy sigh he hadn’t realized had built up in his lungs before pulling the shirt on. It was kind of small, hugging his stomach and arms, but he didn’t mind that much. The trousers were also skin tight and black, and there were knee-high boots at the foot of his bed. Jesus Christ, he was actually going to look like a musketeer gone emo.

He was almost fully changed. He stared down at the cape in his hands.

Disdain coiled in his stomach, making him clench his jaw and press his eyelids shut.

_Do it for Voltron. Do it for the universe._

He fastened the cape as quickly as he could. Just rip it off like a plaster, he thought before striding out of his chamber, down the corridor past everyone else’s rooms and into the Dining Hall with his cape billowing behind him.

 

***

 

“The clothes are traditional Suavien garments,” Allura informed him as they left the Dining Hall and slowly made their way upwards, back to the surface of the planet where the rest of the Suavien population was, “They are a sign of great respect from these people and should be worn with pride.”

She shot him a warning glare when he unconsciously fingered the clasp of the cape, itching to just rip it off.

“Traditional garment. Wear it with pride. Got it,” he said with a nervous smile, letting his arms drop to his sides in embarrassed shame. His mom had always taught him to be respectful, and he wasn’t about to let her down, even if they were on opposite sides of the universe.

The glare melted off her face and she smiled warmly back.

“Good.”

 

***

 

Lance was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for.

For some reason, everyone seemed to forget that you had to be pretty smart to get into a school as prestigious as the Galaxy Garrison.

Sure, he couldn’t code like Hunk and Pidge, and they were definitely better at engineering than him. In terms of general common sense, he was lacking, and he _did_ act goofy a lot.

When it came to Math and Science, though? Physics? Chemistry? Lance was unstoppable.

But that was only when he was focused. Which, before they came to this planet, he mostly wasn’t. He’d had to go through seven months without medication, which meant heightened symptoms and sleepless nights.  He could barely focus if he wasn’t fighting or dancing.

He was definitely focusing now. He wasn’t exactly sure what that crystal was doing, but it was like he was dancing. He was hyper-focused, working at ‘peak performance’. Everyone was also staring at him. He didn’t really notice in the midst of his high-speed rant though.

“-And I was thinking about it a while ago – the castle’s shield _must_ have a way to reform or create molecules, that’s how it patches up holes,” he’d been talking for around five minutes straight, “I’m not sure exactly how far your technology has come - probably further than Earth, seeing as statistically – you know, like on average based on the planets  we’ve already visited the chance of your planet being older than Earth is like, a solid 70% - anyway, if you have the technology to incorporate that, or if we can find a way to replicate Altean tech and improve it so that the shield breaks down less, you’ll have a really strong defence system, especially against the Galra, because their battle strategy always favours offence rather than defence.”

Xerin had been nodding and smiling the whole time while a very flustered Suavien called Yorwin was scribbling down notes as quickly as he could. They were all in a stone dome that was one of the many Suavien labs, tucked away in a forest of purple, leafless trees. It was full of stone tables, on which sat all kinds of glowing equipment, diamond type stones, strange symbols scribbled on thin black slabs and vials full of weird coloured liquids.

“Oh yeah! At breakfast, I had another idea about demobilising canons by-”

“Uh… Lance?” Pidge cut him off in a bewildered voice, “Are you okay?”

He stopped talking abruptly, causing Yorwin to sigh in relief, and turned to see everyone staring at him. His eyebrows furrowed in incomprehension.

“Huh?”

“You just –”

“Sorry to interrupt, but we really do not have time for this sort of thing, as you will be leaving soon for the next system,” Xerin cut in when they realized the hurtful thing that was about to be said, “Now Lance, where were you?”

He gave Pidge one last curious glance before turning back to Xerin, “Ah, right! Demobilising the canons by short-circuiting them with-”

He, Pidge and Hunk bounced ideas around for hours, and he remained completely oblivious to the weird stares he was receiving from his teammates. He may have been really intelligent when it came to Science and Math, (though Pidge and Hunk still easily beat him at the techier coding stuff) but he was still dense (if that made any sense).

Lance insisted he stayed in the lab while everyone else left to meet Suaviens then sleep. He really did want to meet them and talk about their culture, but he was on to something with a potential mechanism for one of the defences and he just couldn’t figure out where the imbalance in his equation was. He tried method upon method, changed up numbers, did rewrite after rewrite, but he just couldn’t work it out. It wasn’t until he stopped, stood back and tried to come at it from a different angle that it clicked. It also wasn’t until then that he realized that he must have taken hours. A yawn fluttered from his lips, and he cricked his back before wandering out into what almost looked like a deserted planet. All the Suaviens slept underground for some reason, and he’d taken so long that everyone must have been asleep for a while now. He started to walk back toward the tunnel, promenading through the trees when he paused. He felt something, almost like an itching in the back of his head, and slowly turned his head toward the sky.

He almost missed it, but once he saw it, his heart dropped.

It was a Galra ship. A huge one.

It was one of those massive cruisers. There was only one, but he recognized it because he’d seen ones like it before. Those were the ones they used when they were initially taking over planets. Lance’s mind raced. Everyone was asleep, and the lions were hidden in the trees. Oh God, his armour was underground, miles away. He could only send a message from Red. And what if they didn’t hear it because they were asleep? There was no way he could get there, wake them all up and get all the way back to the surface and into their lions before the cruiser got here and started pulverising the planet.

He knew it was stupid. He knew there was no way he’d win. But he did it anyway.

He broke into a sprint, cape flying behind him, feet pounding against the navy-blue grass as he weaved through the huge stone dome labs, flying past the violet trees and coming to the clearing under the canopy where the lions were concealed, tall and proud and looming above him. He sensed Red roaring through their bond, watching as he lowered his head so he could clamber in. His hand slammed down on the voice message button in an instant.

“Guys, there’s a cruiser coming for initial planet take-over, and I’m heading for it. P-Please wake up, I don’t know if I can take it on alone,” he said, trying to sound firm despite the obvious waver in his voice. The message would repeat in their helmets over and over again until they heard it, which he prayed they’d do in time. He was completely alone, going up against one of the biggest cruisers he’d ever seen. He sensed Red rumbling through their bond with reassurance and confidence, trying to calm him down and centre him. He closed his eyes and exhaled quietly.

“We can do this, Red. Come on,” he said, before placing his hands on the levers and thrusting them forward, sending them soaring into the sky and straight for the Galra ship.

Lance’s only priority was to get the cruiser away from the planet. So that’s what he did.

He went straight for it before swerving out of its way at the last second, streaking through the air like a lightning bolt and spiralling out of the way of the barrage of laser beams that targeted him as gracefully as he could. He pushed Red harder, going faster and faster as the planet began to shrink into the distance while the cruiser turned and took the bait.

He decided to send another message as panic swelled in him.

“Guys, come on!” he shouted desperately, mere moments before a resounding crash filled the air when he took a hit. He started to spiral out of control with a terrified scream and a beep filled the cockpit, signalling the message was over and had been sent.

He didn’t care about that, focusing on righting himself before blasting a laser from Red’s mouth right at the ship, where it caused a fiery explosion that triggered smaller ones that spread through the cruiser’s side.

His victory was short-lived when he saw the small fighter jets being deployed from a carrier on the ship.

As a powerful stream of fiery lava shot out of a blinding white ball in front of Red’s mouth, Lance tried to send one last message. Laser beams came at him from all angles, and he watched in dismay as a wormhole opened and a fleet came pouring out of it.

“ _They’ve got a fleet_!” he heard the recorder crackle and spoke even faster, “Guys, I’m getting outnumbered and-”

The scream that ripped out of Lance’s throat when an electric net sent an agonizing shock tearing through Red and his body was terrifying.

The pain was blinding, and Lance whimpered out a cry before the message was sent. Then the warm, red lights in the cockpit went dead. The universe spun before fading to black.

 

There was silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn, Lance is in some deep shit lmao
> 
> anyways, what do you think? (it's always pissed me off when they call Lance the dumb one, i may have overdone it here, idk, but my baby boy is smart and i refuse to see that ignored because of his lovable goofiness - i have a lot of feelings, okay?)


	5. Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't going so great for Lance :/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is 'torture' but it's not super graphic or anything

Breakfast for the next week was a silent affair.

The team had been jolted awake by their lions roaring through their bonds, stumbling into their Paladin armour as they sprinted up to the surface to find a fleet preparing to smash into the planet with massive rays of fiery power. The looming threat of the fleet had them charging forward with their helmets in their hands, unable to hear the message playing over their heavy breaths and panicked thoughts. It wasn’t until they were in their seats that Lance’s messages rang through the air from the speakers in the lions.

_Guys, there’s a cruiser coming for initial planet take-over, and I’m heading for it. P-Please wake up, I don’t know if I can take it on alone_

Their eyes widened when they finally registered the absence of Red as the ships drew nearer. They still wouldn’t arrive for a few minutes, which gave them plenty of time to suffer through the next messages. The next one had the distinct sound of violence and lasers blasting in the background. Lance’s voice rose above it.

_Guys, come on!_

Their stomachs went cold at the almighty crash and surprised shout that followed before it cut off, and Hunk screwed his eyes shut with tears streaming down his face. They were all waiting to get up there and see Red fighting, or fleeing, or _anything_ to show that Lance was there, and fine, and safe. That they hadn’t been too late.

Shiro and Coran listened from their fighter jet with grave expressions and anguish twisting their hearts.

Then the last, and by far worst, message came through like a horrible punch to the gut. As proof that Lance wasn’t going to be anywhere in sight when they got there.

_They’ve got a fleet!_

Crackling static started to break up his words. They became even more terrified, more urgent and desperate.

_Guys, I’m getting outnumbered and-_

Lance’s blood-curdling scream tore through their cockpits before silence returned. The only thing that filled the silence was Hunk’s tiny sniffles and coughs, and Keith spoke in a rough voice. His grip on the handles was so tight his knuckles were snow white, and his jaw was clenched hard.

“We’ll find Lance,” he said, breaking through their individual thoughts, “But for now, we have to defend this planet.”

His words were met with silence, but they’d been heeded. They’d fought with everything they had, barely managing without Voltron and only four lions but just about fighting hard enough for the fleet to retreat. Besides, who needed five members of Voltron when one would give you everything you needed?

With enough torture, of course.

 

***

 

No one spoke a word at the breakfast table. The silence hung thick and heavy over them, cloaking them with discomfort and sombreness. Hunk wasn’t even eating, just staring at his plate with a distant look in his eyes. They were still on Suavis in the hopes that Lance would return there.

Then, finally, Keith couldn’t take it anymore.

He slammed his cutlery down with a deafening clatter before rising to his feet fast enough to knock his chair over. He stormed out of the Dining Hall with his hand running through his hair and everyone staring after him. Hunk started to stand too, but Shiro stopped him.

“I’ll talk to him,” he said quietly with his eyes downcast before leaving with silent footsteps.

The moment Shiro entered the corridor, he could hear the shouting, crying and smashing. It was coming from Lance’s room, though. He stood outside the door for a moment, pressed his eyes shut.

“Keith?” he asked loud enough for him to hear, but not enough to startle him.

There was a beat of silence.

“Go away,” Keith’s hoarse voice responded.

“Can’t do that buddy,” Shiro pressed his hand to the stone, watching it shimmer away to reveal Keith slumped against the wall on the floor with blood smearing his knuckles. He’d been punching the wall, then.

“Hey, Keith, we’re all worried about him,” he said carefully, pointedly avoiding saying his name as if it would set Keith off.

“No, you don’t get it.”

Now Shiro was confused. What was he missing?

He approached with slow, quiet steps before sliding down the wall to sit next to Keith. He didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything. Just waited for Keith to talk. That’s how it had always been between them. Sometimes, he talked, most times, he didn’t. But for him, Shiro being _there_ was enough.

“He’s, he… I don’t know,” Keith grunted in frustration at the way the words weren’t coming out right, at how they weren’t reflecting what was swirling in his head, “He’s my _best friend._ He’s what keeps me stable, what stops me from ripping my fucking hair out because being a leader is- it’s _hard_ and La-”

His name became lodged in his throat. He couldn’t even say his _name_.

“He was my partner. And now he’s gone,” his voice broke right before the rest of him did.

 _He’s gone,_ Keith kept saying, over and over as his body was racked with huge, shuddering sobs. He cried hard into Shiro’s side, and he almost recoiled in shock because _Keith was crying?_

“Hey, shh we’re going to find him,” he insisted as he wrapped his arm around him.

Keith looked so small and broken, crying for the first time in literal years, and Shiro had no idea what to do. Because Lance being gone made him want to cry too, and the image of that crystal in his skin still burned in his mind.

“We’ll find him,” Shiro reassured again with a hard, deadly gaze.

 

The Galra were going to pay for what they’d done.

 

***

 

When Lance woke up, he was wrapped in darkness and confusion.

He groaned lowly, sitting up and feeling his eyes drawn to a purple pulsing on his arm. _The crystal._ His eyes couldn’t adjust to the all-consuming darkness because it was too deep.

 _Where am-?_ he pressed a hand to his throbbing head and inhaled sharply as the events from the week before came hurtling back. His nerves spiked and left a weird taste in his mouth, and it was then that he realized that there were also a few scattered purple freckles glowing on his arms. His eyes widened as Xerin’s voice echoed into his head.

_When using the crystal, you will also obtain Suavien markings, though only for as long as you use it_

Lance’s mind was spinning. They hadn’t been there before. How did all of this even work? There was a delay to when they appeared? But that’s not what Xerin had said. Maybe it had something to do with the crystal being hidden in that little cube behind the wa-

Lance hissed, throwing his arm to his face when the cell, and it was definitely a cell, was flooded with blinding light that overloaded his senses. It was abrupt and stung his eyes, but he blinked it away to see a Galra soldier towering over him.

“ _Let me go,_ ” Lance bit out furiously, even though his head was pounding too much for him to even stand.

A horrible grin curled onto the Galra’s face as he leaned down and grabbed a fistful of Lance’s tattered brown shirt before yanking him upward way too fast. Stars danced in front of his eyes and nausea rolled through him for a moment before he steadied himself. The pain in his head surged, and he barely registered the Galra’s words.

“One of the Druids requests your presence.”

The… Druids? Who?

His vision swam as he was all but dragged through corridor after corridor, hearing brief conversations with other soldiers on the cruiser and the occasional ‘Vrepit sa’.

He paused at last in front of a door where a huge Galra stood, all buff shoulders and stocky build.

They exchanged a few sentences, and Lance heard the word ‘torture’ in there somewhere. His eyes widened, and the crystal pulsed harder as he started thrashing. The word, rumbled in a low voice by the Galra kept repeating itself, searing his mind.

_Torture_

“ _Let me go!_ ” he screamed, more desperate this time as he struggled with everything he had in his exhausted, pain filled state.

_Torture_

His vice-like grip somehow tightened further, making Lance gasp before scratching at the hairy skin on the Galra’s hand.

_Torture_

In a final act of desperation, Lance clamped his jaws down on the hand as hard as he could, making the soldier yell in surprise before automatically pulling his hand back. The guard was furious, grabbing him by the hair and tossing him right through the door where he fell in a heap.

“ _When we’ve crushed you, your fellow Paladins will follow_ ,” his voice was laced with a venom that slithered into Lance’s blood stream, making his muscles seize up in paralyzed fear.

He lunged for the door, yelling as it was slammed in his face at the last possible second. He was so busy pounding his fists against the black metal and screaming into the darkness to be let out that he didn’t notice the cloaked figure appear behind him.

“Your pitiful begging is useless.”

A snake-like voice jeered, and Lance spun instantly with wide eyes and laboured breaths. The fear filled his stomach and rose to his throat, blocking any sound from escaping. Its face, whatever the hell that would look like, was hidden behind a long mask, one that was threatening and white against the darkness.

The Druid lifted its hand, and a ball of purple and black energy, like condensed lightning that hissed and sparked, exploded into the inky blackness. Lance stared at it, felt his throat close up and brain shut down in horror and dread.

“Where are the Paladins of Voltron?” it asked, its malicious voice twisting through the air.

Defiance fought through the terror and filled Lance’s eyes, and he shook his head rapidly. No. No way.

The ball of energy grew larger, more menacing. Anger found its way into the Druid’s voice.

“ _Where are the Paladins of Voltron?_ ”

Lance pushed himself back against the door, its coldness pressed into his back and sweat drenched his forehead. He shook his head again. He wouldn’t tell that thing. He’d rather die. Silence stretched between them for a moment, filled with nothing but Lance’s heavy breaths.

“Very well,” it finally said as it extended its arm, “Have it your way, Paladin.”

The pain slammed into him like a bus, seized up his muscles and made him feel like he was being drenched in acid that corroded his skin.

Lance’s screams echoed throughout the entire ship.

 

***

 

“He’s Lance,” Shiro said with certainty:

 

“He can take care of himself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how do you think Lance will escape? Will he escape at all?


	6. Snap

Lance wasn’t exactly sure when he snapped.

He’d long since lost count of the number of times he’d been woken up by the sound of heavy footsteps slamming down the corridor outside his cell, punching his stomach with a freezing cold fear with every pound against the metal floor as they grew louder, nearer. He knew they were going somewhere, because the planets he could see through the windows as he was dragged like a rag doll were different every day. The only question was where?

Red had been almost silent.

He could only just sense him there, at the furthermost edges of his mind. He could feel… _something._ But it was so far away he had no idea what it was. At first, he’d thought they’d done something to Red, tampered with him. The very thought electrocuted his veins with fury, but something told him the problem wasn’t Red. That something was telling him that the problem was actually with him. Because Lance was a shell of the bright, vibrant person he’d been before. His radiant colours had dulled. And with every day, or week, or month, because Lance had absolutely no clue how long he’d been there, that had passed like sand in an hourglass, the idea that they weren’t just torturing him to coax information out of him grew stronger. Maybe they were shackling and throwing him into a world of agony every day to weaken his mind, so his bond with Red crumbled and his will was so badly torn down that they could just use magic to force it out of him. The notion became more and more convincing.

He was always so manacled by tiredness, always in so much pain that it clouded everything. It was like Red couldn’t even break through the thick fog in his mind that the endless torture of the Galra had stuffed in there. It was too dense.

The days had blurred together so much that Lance couldn’t even tell if he’d been there for a week or a year. A few weeks at most, though, surely?

It was when Lance brushed the cusp of surrender that he pulled back. That he decided he couldn’t just give up. He couldn’t handle it any more. He could feel insanity like a looming threat, sensed he’d go crazier than Honerva if he stayed here any longer. So he chose. He would escape, even if it killed him.

 

***

 

Pidge had pulled up a 3D map in the Atlas’ boardroom. It didn’t look good.

At all.

“They went out of range yesterday,” she explained in a wobbly voice, flicking her shaking hands to reveal that Lance had travelled an incomprehensible distance since the last time they'd checked, "This is as far as I could track them."

They’d gone so far away from Suavis it was jarring. It set the world on a severe tilt that made it spin faster than it should’ve been, that made the air unbearably hot and cold simultaneously and punched each of their guts like a brick.

“ _12 light years!?_ ” Keith couldn’t breathe. The sound of his heartbeat thudding was deafening, filling everything and pounding against his skull like a tsunami. His mouth went dry, “How the hell are we supposed to rescue him now!? Can't you do a science-techy thing?”

" _Oh, fuck off, Keith!_ "

Silence.

“ _What!?_ ” his voice was explosive, bouncing against the walls and filling the room with its turmoil and fiery severity.

“Keith,” Shiro’s low voice was a warning when everyone flinched. The MFEs were staring down at the table, rigid and tense.

He ignored him, speaking through gritted teeth, “Pidge.”

“You're acting like a quiznaking dick,” she blurted out, and Allura’s gasp cut through the air like a knife.

“Pidge, what are you talking about?”

She rolled her eyes, “Don't act like you haven't noticed it.”

Hunk stared between Shiro and Pidge with wide eyes, “Uh, Pidge, maybe you should-”

“Noticed what!?” Keith snapped, eyes ablaze. He was on his feet with balled fists and glowing yellow eyes. Pidge bristled in annoyance, rising to the challenge with her face twisted into an ugly scowl and her glare white-hot and seething.

Hunk stood forward now, stretching his arms out, “Seriously guys, now isn’t the time-”

“You! Going ape shit crazy!” Pidge shouted over him.

Hunk facepalmed.

“Now you’ve gone and done it,” he muttered in dismay when Keith’s face flushed in rage.

“Done what?”

Keith had stormed out before Hunk even started his sentence.

Everyone sat in awkward silence while the sound of him yelling, smashing and punching things in the hallway gradually faded as the distance between him and the boardroom grew like dye on paper.

“Meeting’s over,” Shiro said through a sigh, running his hand over his face in exhaustion with Curtis placing a hand on his shoulder and murmuring comforts in his ear.

Hunk shot Pidge a glare.

“I get that you’re upset about Lance being gone. We all are. But tearing the team apart is _not_ the way to deal with it,” he chided, even as the image of his best friend smiling and joking around put his throat in a chokehold and filled his eyes with tears.

She didn’t even bother with responding. She just ran away in the opposite direction, a single sob fighting its way through her lips before she turned the corner.

Hunk felt guilt twist his gut before hastily running after her.

 

_t w o  w e e k s  l a t e r_

Lance’s moment had come.

He’d managed to battle the fog in his head through sheer willpower alone. He’d wrestled against it, fought for sweet clarity as the once distant presence of Red found its way to the forefront of his mind. He felt it like a shock that rattled his bones and sank deep into his muscles. Panic. Pure, unadulterated panic that coursed through his veins and buzzed under his skin. Lance was itching to get out, could feel that crystal pumping focus and trying to get calm energy through him. Oh, that crystal. He loved it. Loved it so much. Whenever he felt like he was on the verge of breaking down entirely, it pulled him back. It was the crutch he needed. He had no idea that it was hurting him. He was feeling emotions so strong it almost felt like it was going to burst right out of his arm. He hadn’t felt anything as strong until right then, when his mind finally cleared and Red’s presence, if entirely panicked, was with him.

When the door to his cell had opened with a screech, Lance had been fully prepared to fly forward, slam whoever was there in the face with his fist and make a run for it.

What he _hadn’t_ been prepared for was a burst of white energy to blast out of the palm of his hand and strike the soldier’s chest, sending them keeling over with a surprised shout before thumping against the floor with a ringing _thud._

Lance stared at his hand for a split second, but flight or fight kicked into high gear at the sound of another Galra approaching, and he took off like a lightning bolt, sprinting down hallway after hallway as random blasts shot from his hands that he couldn’t control. He could hear Galra chasing behind him as he dashed blindly, using the bond to see through Red’s eyes. _The hallway on the left, two rights and then down the stairs._

He turned, ran, shot energy out of his hands sporadically as he stumbled through a final hallway that opened up to a gargantuan hangar. He was stood at an onyx black walkway with a railing in front of it and stairs at either end. The height was dizzying, even as the sound of the Galra grew louder and more threatening. The stairs spanned the length of a skyscraper at least, they were that unfathomably high, and he didn’t have a Galra hand for the elevator. So Lance pulled a plan out of his ass and did the bravest – or absolute dumbest – thing ever. He ran right up to the railing with barely any thought.

And jumped.

His stomach swooped like a roller-coaster, and for a slice of a moment, he thought: _This is it. This is how I die, alone in a Galra cruiser with my friends trillions of miles away._

But then Red caught him.

The euphoria he felt when Red caught him, and he just about managed to grab onto the pilot’s seat and haul himself onto it was otherworldly. It was all-consuming. He didn’t laugh or even smile as they crashed through the side of the cruiser and streaked away faster than any fighter plane could ever hope to follow them, but he was relieved beyond what was imaginable. His four months of personal hell were over.

“Let’s go home, Red,” Lance whispered.

 

He felt Red’s mighty roar in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all, i'm super sorry and i am very aware that the plot and writing is very rushed and this is very shit i sincerely apologize, but i panicked i guess?? idk what went wrong but things will slow down i swear,,, this was just a blip and my exams start next week so i'm v stressed and ugh sorry for the rant :/


	7. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> at this point, idek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on the 19th of January I rewrote a portion of the previous chapter, so you may want to check that out! x (thank you Perlz for pointing out a major flaw)

“Everyone is worried about you, Keith,” Krolia said gently.

 

Keith had already had enough of this conversation.

 

“You’re not acting like yourself.”

Anger was boiling under the surface of his skin now, white-hot and deadly and threatening to spill over.

“Oh, really?” he forced out.

“ _Yes._ This is not the Keith I know,” that was all it took for him to lose it.

“And what Keith is that, exactly!?”

The surprise on Krolia’s face was sudden and instant: it widened her eyes and hauled up her eyebrows. A frown pulled at her lips before she schooled her expression into wobbly indifference. Keith’s words, and the sharp meaning beneath them, hung in the air between them for a moment.

“A Keith that is calm, controlled and a strong leader,” she said eventually, when she was sure her voice would be firm. Galra didn’t show weakness. Never.

“ _You don’t know anything about me_ ,” he hissed, spitting the words out like poison, “You think a few visions in the Quantum Abyss can fix all the shit you put me through?”

“Keith, I-” she reached out to his shoulder, but he recoiled like he’d been stung.

“ _Don’t_ touch me,” his intense dark eyes glowered at her, and she stepped backward in shock, “I’m not giving up on Lance. We can’t form Voltron without him. If you _ever_ suggest that again, I swear on my father’s life that you can forget about being my mother.”

Krolia gasped, and the fissures on her heart gave way to a crack, deep and harrowing.

 _You’re going too far, Keith stop!_ a voice that sounded an awful lot like his conscience was yelling at him from a crevice in his head. He ignored it. An apology didn’t spill from his lips. If Lance was here, he could have convinced him to make amends.

 

But he wasn’t.

 

“I thought the Galra were cruel and heartless. Show me I was wrong.”

 

The silence that followed was riddled with tension and a heartbreak whose form couldn’t be put into words. Krolia opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment her next words were ripped away by Hunk barrelling into the room like a cannonball.

“Keith- they-”

He didn’t have to say anything more, because Keith was already sprinting right past him.

 

***

 

“It seems like he’s coming toward us,” Pidge said with excitement swelling her voice, “We can wormhole to him with the Castle’s crystal, but it’ll still take around three quintants.”

Her voice sounded miles away, or like Keith was submerged deep underwater where the only thing he could see was the red, blinking speck that was streaking its way toward them. Red was coming. Lance was coming.

The reality of it slammed into him hard, consumed him and filled his entire being. Because Lance was _coming._ He was going to be right here with them. A feeling of unbelievable warmth and joy formed a ball in his chest, and he barely stopped a grin from breaking onto his face. _Thank the stars._

Lance would be with them again.

 

***

 

Lance was dying.

 

He could tell. There was no more ‘space goo’ left in his supplies, he was barely controlling himself enough to take the tiniest intermittent sips from his water packet, and he was simply letting Red take control, flying them to wherever it was they were going because Lance was far too exhausted to care. He tried to focus on the feeling of the crystal, tried to ignore the mind-numbing worry and panic that Red was sending thrumming through his pulse because Red could tell he was dying. He was tired but terrified of falling asleep - he didn’t know if he’d wake up.

And there were also the nightmares.

He couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to. The moment he closed his eyes he’d see a Druid, feel phantom pains wrack his body and hear awful, hideous things being hissed into his ear and taking over his every thought. No sleeping.

Oh, how he wanted to dance, though. He wanted to do his pirouettes, wanted to do grand jeté after grand jeté and fouettés and raise to en-pointe and finally do a proper Arabesque - without worrying about whether the Galra were going to get bored of him and just kill him already. It was too late for wishing though. Dreams didn’t come true for the dead. He hoped that the team wouldn’t miss him too much, that they’d find Red and someone else to form Voltron. Maybe Shiro could take back the Black Lion and Keith could do it. Yeah, that would be nice…

 

Lance didn’t really believe his eyes when he saw the Atlas approach. Maybe it was just a death thing, he didn’t know.

 

His eyes remained half-lidded, his thoughts stayed numb and quiet as the hangar door opened and Red flew inside on his own accord. He knew this wasn’t real, but slowly made his way out of Red’s mouth when he lowered his head anyway. Distantly, he heard someone shout his name, and the sound was desperate and echoed. Bright light stung his eyes, and his cold, exhausted legs lasted all of two seconds before he collapsed.

That voice screamed his name again, closer this time, more real and solid like it was grounded in reality. Strong arms pulled him gently from the metal floor before sweeping him off his feet entirely. He groaned quietly before leaning into the chest of whoever it was, letting them carry him and barely registering the words that were swimming in and out of his hearing.

“ _Wounds – may – infected”_

_“Cryo – get the – nconsci – ”_

_“Come – he’s – med b-”_

And then the voice was right by his ear, whispering oh so quietly, so close and warm and comforting that Lance almost opened his tired eyes.

“ _Sleep._ ”

And who was Lance to disobey?

 

***

 

Lance couldn’t breathe as he sprinted down a metallic hallway with horribly bright purple lights assaulting his vision. His chest was heaving with painful breaths that barely came, his legs were screaming and his eyes were watering, but the burn was almost good. He had to run. He just had to.

“ _You think you can escape!?_ ”

Lance forced his body further, to run even harder.

“ _You worthless, pathetic excuse of a Paladin. It is a wonder to the entire Galra Empire that the mighty Red Lion would choose such a useless piece of scum.”_

The tears spilled over, the corridor stretched longer, somehow transcending endlessness and becoming so impossibly wide and long that Lance felt tinier than an ant.

“ _How naïve, how stupidly ignorant and arrogant of you to think that_ you _could ever save the universe._ ”

“ _Stop!_ ” Lance finally screamed into the void, and silence fell like a vacuum that sucked everything out of him.

He gave in at last, crashing to his knees and punching the dark ground with hot, anguished tears streaming down his face as he screamed furiously into the void. It was then, at that impossibly low, weak moment, that a Druid appeared, materialising out of nothing as a vivid manifestation of his fear.

“No, no _please_ ,” he sputtered, scrambling backward as a quiet voice filled the air.

_La-_

“St-stay back!” the fear was freezing cold and filled his throat, coated him in sweat as the Druid approached silently. It loomed above him.

_Lan-_

The purple and black energy formed right in front of him, crackling with deadly menace and an unspoken threat.

- _ance_

That voice grew closer, louder, and then suddenly it filled everything, yanking him violently out of the nightma-

_Lance!_

The moment he was awake he was screaming, thrashing in incomprehensible terror that stole his breath as the shaky remnants of the nightmare flashed behind his eyes. The darkness. The metallic smell of the Galra cruiser. The Druid, so ready to wreak pain like it’d done dozens of times before.

“Lance it’s okay, it’s okay – it’s over,” a voice murmured, and he _knew_ that voice. He focused on it, shakily taking control of his breathing and looking up in disbelief.

“Keith?” he croaked out, and the long-haired boy gave him a crooked grin.

“Hey, Lance.”

“Keith, oh my God,” was the only thing he whimpered before throwing himself forward and hugging him hard, which had him grunting in surprise. Lance started crying again, couldn’t stop himself if he tried, but Keith didn’t mind his shoulder getting soaked with salty tears.

Lance couldn’t force any words out, was powerless against the onslaught of tears and sobs that crashed over him like a tidal wave. The Galra cruiser was still fresh in his mind.

 

“I’m sorry Lance,” Keith whispered, too quiet for him to ever hear.

 

“I’m so, so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything is a bit of a mess, tbh  
> but first week of exams is out of the way! sorry this is once again very rushed  
> but i managed to get the story back on track just about, expect some proper klance action soon ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	8. Turns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's a bit of dancing in this one ~

Lance had been dancing.

He didn’t sleep any more, not with hellish nightmares chasing him deep into his dreams where he couldn’t escape. During the day they lingered, hissed and licked flames at the back of his mind, but he could mostly keep them at bay and stop them from burning him. At night though? The fire took over when consciousness slipped away in the dark of the night. That was why he couldn’t even bear to close his eyes. That was why, when it was lights out in the Atlas, when he knew for certain that there was nobody about, he’d roll out of bed, grab his pointe shoes and slip out into the hallway. He’d pad down the metallic hallways, silent as a mouse and light on his feet until he reached the training deck. And then he’d dance.

He didn’t need music. His emotions were enough.

Some days the trauma caught up to him, and the emotions were so strong they overwhelmed him like violent waters, filling his chest and his head and his lungs, and he knew if he didn’t dance he’d scream and wouldn’t stop. Other days the Galra seemed galaxies away, and the only thing that mattered was first position right up to fifth, chin up, arms high and strong and proud, and his mind at peace. On those days, Lance felt like he could dance forever.

Sometimes words weren’t enough. Sometimes the anger, and turmoil and brokenness was so vast and bottomless that there was no way that sentences could capture its depths, could possibly brush the surface of the deepness of those feelings. They were ingrained in him, had set deep within his bones. A constant that shadowed him, a curse that couldn’t be escaped. But Lance could distract himself. With dance. With war. With the crystal. And maybe with a certain someone…

Today would be A La Secondes.

Lance _loved_ A La Secondes. He loved turns in general, loved the rush they gave him, adored the feeling of lightness and cool air brushing his face as he turned and turned and turned. He could tell his pointe shoes weren’t going to make it much longer, and that he really should give them a break if he wanted them to last for a while, _and_ the blisters on his feet were _painful_. But did he care? No. He just wanted to dance. He’d dance until the day he died if he could.

 

***

 

“Hey, Lance? Can I talk to you?”

When Shiro had knocked on his door and entered without waiting for a reply (classic dad move) the first thing Lance felt was panic. It lit his body on fire, filled him with _‘does he know?_ ’s and _‘I’m in trouble’_ s that had him squirming in discomfort on his bed.

“Uh, yeah,” he croaked out, willing his face to look neutral and not at all anxious that he was about to be told he couldn’t dance any more, that he’d been caught and he could hurt himself.

“It’s about the crystal.”

Record scratch. Everything muting.

Lance’s mind was stuttering, as were his words, “W-what?”

Blood roared in his ears. How did he-?

“Don’t play dumb, Lance. I know you’re not. The crystal in your arm, I saw it and I have to tell you something,” now Lance’s mind was starting to catch up. His eyes went wide.

The words _I don’t know what you’re talking about_ were on the tip of his tongue, but there was no point in denying what they both knew was true.

“It helps me,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “It gets rid of the ADHD.”

The hardness in Shiro’s features melted away, and he sighed heavily before lowering himself onto the bed. His fingers tangled together, and he hesitated. Silence hung over them for a moment. It was a thick, heavy silence. The kind that made you shift awkwardly and wish more than anything for it to end. Lance was just about to break the unbearable quiet when Shiro beat him to it with words that made his blood run cold.

“I’m going to need you to hear me out, because you’re not going to like this.”

He finally looked him in the eyes, and Lance felt a shiver slide down his spine like a snake. Suddenly, the room felt way too small when he looked at Shiro, when he realized what he was seeing. There was something behind his dark eyes that Lance had seen in so many people, countless times, too many times before:

Fear.

But seeing it in his selfless hero’s eyes? It was _wrong._ Something was horribly wrong, and it made unease tingle on the surface of his skin.

“Shiro?” and that deadly, traitorous fear leaked into his voice as well.

The older man darted his eyes away and Lance swallowed, “Shiro, if this is a joke it isn’t funny, what’s g-”

“I talked to Xerin, and they told me some… stuff.”

“’Stuff’?”

He dragged his hand down his face with his shoulders hunched and finger clenching his baggy shirt way too tight.

“I’m just gonna say it.”

A pause. Lance stared at him in intent anticipation, holding his breath and preparing for the worst.

“The crystal is killing you.”

He was not prepared for that.

Everything inside of Lance recoiled instantly at those words. It was like the air got sucked out of the room, and his hands were shaking a bit too fast, his heart was pounding a bit too quickly, everything was accelerating more than he could handle. It wasn’t killing him. It was _helping_ him.

“N-no it’s not.”

Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes closed like he’d been expecting that, “Lance-”

“ _No,_ ” a wobble found its way into his voice without permission, “That’s n-not true, it’s _helping -_ it’s _good._ ”

“No. Lance, listen to me. That thing is dangerous, it was locked away for a reason.”

But Lance was on his feet now, pacing back and forth with his fingers desperately ripping at his hair.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” his breath was ragged, “ _You don’t know what you’re talking about._ ”

“Xerin wasn’t who you thought they were. Or- they were but,” he sighed, “We need to find a way to remove that crystal.”

Lance froze. The air rushed back into the room all at once, and it was too much for him to take in. It was like he was drowning, like everything was closing in on him. The crystal was burning his arm. It had never done that before. He ignored it.

“What?” he asked, painfully quiet.

“We need to remove it.”

“No. No, _no_ you’re _not_ doing that!” he backed away, hugging his arms in front of him as if that could somehow protect it. Something was swelling inside of him, something that was heavy and malicious and poisonous was slivering through his bloodstream and bleeding into his mind.

“But it’s killing you, Lance!”

Lance’s eyes turned cold, and he felt white energy crackling at his fingertips and the crystal pulsing harshly in his arm. Something inside him detached itself, and his cold eyes turned a glowing, violent white as the energy in his hands grew larger. When he spoke, the words echoed and distorted. He wasn’t Lance. The crystal had taken over.

“ _Silence,_ ” the crystal demanded, and the sound warped and twisted as it bounced off the walls.

Shiro was on his feet in an instant.

“They said this might happen, Lance you gotta listen to me-” he dived out of the path of a shot that blasted his way before rolling into a crouch.

“ _I said silence!_ ” the crystal roared in fury as Shiro leapt to his feet, narrowly avoiding another ball of deadly energy. Suavien markings appeared on the surface of his skin, but they bled outwards, spreading and merging into each other until his skin had turned a deep, dark purple. The light from his eyes was almost blinding.

Shiro spent a split second making his decision before finding the gap. He slammed his robotic arm right into Lance’s leg with guilt marring his mind before he made a run for it, sprinting out into the corridor and smashing his hand down onto an emergency button. Red lights flashed throughout the Atlas as the alarm sounded, and Shiro sprinted down the hallway.

“ _Run!_ ” was all he hollered to the people he passed as his feet pounded toward the other Paladins’ dorms. He could hear things crashing behind him, knew he was close.

 

The crystal was in control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's super late :/
> 
> but yay exams are over!!


End file.
